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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717091">The Common Soul</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteflags/pseuds/whiteflags'>whiteflags</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:54:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24717091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteflags/pseuds/whiteflags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Suki x Sokka fic.</p><p>Something to do with imprisonments, rescues, responsibility, ghosts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sokka &amp; Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Submission</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness swamped the fortress. The prison existed in the centre of a canyon, there were rumours that it had been built on top of an undersea volcano, one that had lay dormant for over a hundred years. Some said that given enough fire-benders, the volcano could be awakened and engulf the prison whole.  But long ago, someone very powerful had once manipulated the heat of the lava to rise enough to boil the surrounding water, steam arising around the fortress, enough to veil it’s existence from the rest of the world and appear as a fog. </p><p>Prisoners were kept on the second level of the building for the ground floor was too hot to be functional. The prison itself was high security, with a number of fire benders and non bending loyalists patrolling the walls. There was no specific infrastructure to the building itself, nothing put in place to differentiate the prisoners as varying levels of dangerous except varying times of ward seclusion and yard time. Perhaps it was arrogance that lead the Fire Nation to lump them altogether as high risk enemies; war criminals, nation leaders, idealists and freedom fighters. Anyone who posed the risk to influence or begin an uprising was sent there. Or perhaps it was reliance on the structure of the prison, the inability to escape for the location of the Boiling Rock was remote, the waters too hot to tread. </p><p>The slim girl had long been stripped of her honour, her face was bare and dressed in prison rags, she had her head in her hands, eyes tightly shut, hoping for sleep but instead her mind raced. </p><p>Would she be responsible for the end of their legacy? The Kyoshi Warriors would be no more and their blood would be on her hands. She was their leader, she was supposed to protect them not lead them to their end like lambs to the slaughter. It left a sour taste in her mouth. </p><p>They hadn’t questioned her leadership then. She had caught the girls in an after battle high, a mixture of adrenaline and endorphins, a taste for a different kind of life. Years of training finally put to use. So when conversations began about doing more in the Hundred Year War, aiding the Avatar in his return, seeking justice for the damage done by Fire Nation, she had listened. They all had hoped this opportunity would arise, hushed whispers turned to potential reality. They wanted to honour their namesake, to fight for a cause and they looked to Suki to be the one to lead them. </p><p>They knew their strengths and their weaknesses, they aided in the best way they could. They utilised themselves, they prepared themselves, they understood the risks. They knew the very real threat of death and captivity but they were warriors, it was a threat they welcomed even if they didn’t entertain the subject matter often. Instead, when they would regroup, there was often chatter of angry ticket holders, of seasickness, of nostalgia for Kyoshi Island, most nights, they would often turn to Suki to tease her about a certain Water Tribe boy who had wandered into their training grounds. </p><p>But when the night approached, and the promise of slumber was close, it was an unspoken shared sentiment, they would climb into their beds, draw up their covers and anticipate a warrior’s return to the Island, to train again as a unit, to feel the crunch of the first snow beneath their boots. In sleep, they could almost hear the whistle of the wind carrying saltwater through the markets and smell the lingering scent of fish and fresh bread, but those dreams always mixed with the warning of reality, and consciousness drifted towards the honour that came with death on the battlefield... eyes painted red, dressed in green, golden fan in hand. It was an unconscious string of fate that could snap either way. </p><p>It seemed like a pipe dream compared to her sordid reality. And her dreams no longer came, she could not be comforted by the escapism of sleep but her body just lay in exhaustion. Suki would die in this cell, covered in bruises, dressed in the red of her enemies, no makeup to mark her honour, no identity, just another casualty who would die at the hands of the Fire Nation. </p><p>As time passed, frustration grew, eating away at the hope of freedom. She was left with bitter thoughts and a longing for a blue eyed boy who was never coming. </p><p>The first time Azula visited her, Suki had been standing in the centre of the room, shifting her weight from her upper body to her lower body as she motioned through the steps of tessenjutsu, an invisible fan in her hand. Eyes shut, she could almost pretend she was in the comfort of Kyoshi Island. Her footsteps precise, she twirled and turned, arms high and then low, finishing in the traditional stance, only to be interrupted by the sound of an exaggerated yawn.</p><p>Suki’s eyes shot open, settling on the figure in the doorway and she turned slowly to face the approaching Fire Nation princess. Her stomach gurgled at the sight of the accompanying metal tray of cold food; a small portion of undercooked rice and vegetables were pushed towards her. Neither girl spoke as Suki took the meal and sat to eat. </p><p>She hadn’t even started to appease her hunger before the sound of metal hitting stone caught her attention. A familiar gold headpiece, now scorched at the edges lay in front of her. The ravenous craving inside of her disappeared. The headpiece was not just a threat to Suki, it was a threat to the existence of her warriors. And the drawl began, </p><p>“The Fire Nation has always pardoned Kyoshi Island. When we conquered Ba Sing Se, we could have taken the war south to teach your people a lesson but we did not...<br/>
We showed clemency, we showed mercy, acquitted your people from the sins of your namesake. We have taken you into our home.” She gestured around her, “Perhaps we have been too kind...”</p><p>“- was that mercy when they set fire to our village?” </p><p>“That was down to Zuzu.” Azula paused, “my brother is an exile. He is as Fire Nation as you are. I bare no responsibility for his actions.” </p><p>Tired from hunger and in no mood to play politics with the Princess’s clever tongue, Suki cut to the chase. “What do you want from me?”</p><p>The princess crouched to the floor, eye level with the warrior. Her voice was cool and commanding. </p><p>“Tell me about the Avatar. Tell me everything you know.”</p><p>The words hung heavy in the air. There was a suffocating silence. It was an impossible decision.</p><p>If she spoke, she would risk the lives of the very people she had left to help, of the furry flying bison she had helped escape, of the young monk, the reincarnation of the Avatar she had dedicated her life to, of Sokka, the boy with the boomerang, the boy with the stupid jokes, the contagious laugh, the dedicated warrior, the boy she had once seen a future with. She would risk losing all that. </p><p>But if she didn’t, she risked the lives of her sisters, the glint of the headpiece reminded her as much, if she survived without them, she would carry the weight of their deaths, she would walk the remainders of her days with ghosts by her sides. But death on the battlefield didn’t always mean knife wounds or bending scars. They had known the risks of the War when they left their homeland, she closed her eyes, imagining their faces; Yua with her easy smile and kind eyes, Niko who’s mood changed like the weather but determination never faltered, Asami who’s beauty was the talk of the island. Of her ferocious twin Asuga, and of the youngest of their captured group, Kaida who never faltered, never failed to make her smile, who would hang on to her every word. The faces kept coming, Kana, Mari, Ishi, girls who were still here and those who were long gone. </p><p>What were dreams to reality? Hopefulness but nothing tangible.  But, dreams carried hope, they gave determination, they were the oxygen in the air, the salt in the sea, the stars in the night sky. They gave direction, they gave purpose, they gave a reason to fight and every time the warriors had sat to apply the white face paint, streaking their eyes and lips red, they were reminded of that. </p><p>“Well, I’m waiting. Speak fan girl.”</p><p>The nasal tone interrupted her thoughts. And when Suki shifted her focus from the headpiece on the floor to the Princess’s cool gaze, she gathered her courage and spat at her captor. </p><p>It was enough to infuriate her, Azula’s nostrils flared in anger, her signature blue flames dancing in her hands extended to the walls of the small room and surrounded the pair, Azula’s was impervious to the effects but the flames licked Suki’s skin, an overbearing warmth, and scent of singed hair and flesh filled the box cell. </p><p>“You will fear me. And with fear comes submission.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Impatient Heart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>not sure how I feel about this chapter!! I want to follow the show but don’t want to give it too much attention lol.<br/>pls be kind lmao</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>She saunters up to him, a hand on her hip, surveying the boy. The kohl around her eyes dark, red lips puckered, grey eyes teasing.<br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then the rest of the world comes into focus; the olive greens of foliage, dapples of sun that streak the sky, the golden light falls on her face, on her eyes, and in that moment, he would swear her eyes were purple. He reaches out a hand to her face but as soon as his fingers touch the chalky porcelain skin, he hears a voice calling out to him.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Sokka.” His name. One word. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then it repeats itself. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The girl in front of him is emotionless, no - he doesn’t have to look much deeper to see how she carries the look of courage, eyes full of bravery, she has a warriors face, lips tight in anticipation and he realises the sound of his name did not arise from her rouge stained mouth. He longs to let his fingertips rest on her cheek for a moment, to know that warmth again, so he reaches out for her. But when he touches her, she turns to ash, her delicate gestures crumble and before he can react. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“SOKKA.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The voice is closer, clearer, urgency ringing in every syllable of his name. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turns around and the sunlight he had been drowning in has disappeared. Yet in spite of the sudden darkness, there is no chill in the night air. He looks towards the heavens, the crescent of the moon peeks out towards him and redirects his gaze to a glimmer of light shining out towards the sea.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> A single boat. A water tribe boat. There are markings etched in the woods, a familiar flag dancing in the wind. An ache inside Sokka’s heart, he’s walking towards the sea, towards his father before he realises. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So he walks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And the sea doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But he keeps going, ignoring the heaviness that has started to sink in his legs.</em>
  <em> The glimmer of the sea shines brighter, he looks up to the moon in despair.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Help me.” It is a last plea, his voice breaks. There is no voice to call out to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He looks back to where the figure of the first girl was, wanting more than just dust particles in the air. His wish is granted, there is a ghost of the golden headpiece, the fan, and those grey eyes gazing upon him - silent, unjudging and ready for battle.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p> “HEY SNOOZLES, GET UP.” The Earth Kingdom girl laughed as she watched Sokka rumble from his sleep. </p><p>He stretched awkwardly and took in his reality for a few seconds. The dreams had started soon after their failed attempt on the Fire Nation. The voice he heard had started off as Azula’s - mimicking the cries of her Kyoshi warrior prisoner but soon turned to take on a more ambiguous tone, often ending up as belonging to Princess Yue. </p><p>He felt a shiver up his spine and quickly shook off the feeling. That was his dreams and this was reality. The cool marble beneath him, the gaze of a certain blind bandit, and the wings of a flying lemur coming over to crash into him were all concrete reminders.</p><p>“Well, a warrior needs his sleep.” Sokka retorted to Toph, she watched him bemusedly as he dodged Momo weaving and bobbing around him.</p><p>“Yeah yeah Snoozles, if you say so... Without me, none of you would even be here.” The bare foot girl replied without missing a beat, a mischievous glint in her eye.</p><p>The truth was Toph had a keen ear for vibrations, it was the way she could ‘see’ the world. In some ways, she felt she could ‘see’ better than most of these people with eyes. And over the years, she had gotten a lot better at reading people through the smallest sounds they would give off. With elements and benders, even in stillness, there was something that could identify who they were - for Aang, above everything else, she could hear the flightiness of his heartbeat, with water benders, and especially with Katara, the motion of blood running through her veins, Zuko was more difficult but once she had picked up on it - there was no forgetting it; his breathing was far more controlled than the others. There was no cacophony or overlapping of elements though, they were just sounds that settled in her ears, a small but significant indication of existence, like details in the background of a painting.</p><p>With Sokka, she had grown used to the rush of blood and the steady and reliable beat of his heart so when one morning she noticed an irregularity to his usual rhythm, she knew something was up. Not that she’d ever tell the Water Tribe boy that she was worried about him, because Toph Beifong was not the kind of girl to worry about anyone, except maybe herself.</p><p>Even know as he ate, she could hear the impatience of his heart.</p><p>She thought back to their meeting with Azula, the way she had almost heard his breath stop at the sound of Suki’s name. The sharp intake of air. The rush of blood and speed of limbs flying. It would have been enough to rattle anyone. But more than that, she had heard the defeat in his body, she could feel that sense of failure haunting his body and that aura had not quite left him since.</p><p>The day went on, Aang and Zuko practiced firebending, Aang and Katara practiced water bending, Aang and Toph practiced earthbending and they took turns in being audience members. There was no shaking that feeling of loss that resonated heavy in the group, but no member spoke up to acknowledge it. Instead; they spent the day, practicing element bending, talking strategy, hiding around the Air Temple with Haru and the others (despite Zuko’s initial opposition to the game, he has gotten quite good at finding certain hiding spots) and before they knew it, it was night. With stomachs full and empty cups of tea, the gang would turn in to sleep. Or at least most of them would.</p><p>The dreams would come again. And they would keep coming unless he did something about them. It was clear what they intended, who he was supposed to find. He would not sleep soaked in guilt, not if he found a way to absolve that guilt and to make things right again. He had lost a part of himself in that wayward battle, it was his strategy that had failed them, so it ate away at him. Even if nobody gave any indication to it - Sokka thought that he had lost his respect, he could no longer call himself a strategist, he couldn’t go any further to make things right without doing this first.</p><p>So he waited; he waited until he heard the familiar noise of soft snoring coming from Aang and the not so soft snoring from Toph. He looked over at his sister who slept on her side, tucking herself into a ball, he looked at The Duke, who looked less scary and more child like in the moonlight. He looked at the others safe in their slumber and felt it was time. </p><p>Appa’s fur was soft beneath his feet, he climbed the bison slowly, quietly, peeping behind every so often to make sure none of the group had woken. So when he saw a familiar scar faced boy sat cross armed in the flying bison’s saddle, he jumped back in surprise, the solid air temple floor showing no kindness to his fall.</p><p>The fire nation prince raised an eyebrow and walked towards the edge of the saddle, staring down at Sokka.</p><p> </p><p>”Fine, you caught me.” Sokka grumbled, clambering back to two feet. “I’m gonna rescue my dad. You happy now?” He stared defiantly at the amber eyed prince.</p><p><br/>
“I’m never happy.” He spoke in a way that was straight to the point, it lacked the embellishment his sister had so easily mastered, but the honesty in his voice was unnerving.</p><p>Neither boy was backing down. Sokka sighed, “The invasion plan was <i>my</i> idea. It was <i>my</i> idea to stay when things were going wrong. It was my mistake and it’s up to me to fix it. I need to get back my honour and you aren’t stopping me Zuko.”</p><p>It took Zuko a second to reply. “Honour” he thought, he almost smiled at it. He looked at the warrior boy with his deep tan and icy eyes and he thought of the conversation they had in the day about high risk prisoners and the Boiling Rock. He thought of the absent father, the prodigy sister, the unsinkable feeling of lost honour.</p><p>And it almost made him laugh when the words of a young monk echoed in his thoughts, “do you think we could have been friends too?”</p><p>“I’m coming with you.” He stated, mind made up and when the warrior boy began to object, Zuko merely pointed out the holes in the plan - flying Appa to a Fire Nation prison was a risk, besides, did he think they had a bison daycare over there? And best yet, Zuko has an alternative. </p><p>“We‘ll take my war balloon.”</p>
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